Bleeding Moon
by Quezacolt
Summary: Light is born from darkness, as hope is born from nothing. JohnxElizabeth


Title: Bleeding Moon

Summary: Light is born from the darkness, as hope is born from nothing.

* * *

Don't judge a person by their deeds. Judge a person by their strength of character. By their compassion. By their humanity. It was a lesson John's grandfather always drilled into his head.

"You there! Boy! What did I tell you about teasing people you don't know? One day you might need them on your side. You shouldn't judge people by their deeds, or their looks my son. But by their strength of character." It was an innocent statement enough, but John always resented it as a child and then as a teen.

"And how should I judge father then?" He would say to his grandfather's aging face scathingly, "Should I forget the deeds he's acted against his own children? Should I grandpa? Should I forget everything he ever did to me?"

He would always walk away then, for a long walk to ease his troubled young mind and always missing his grandfathers tired and weary sigh, before whispering almost silently under his breath; "No John. But even for the strongest minds, looks can often deceive..." The elderly man would always then retire to his room, his eyes avoiding those of his bloodthirsty, more often then not drunk son and spending hours locked up, no one but himself knowing as he stared at the photographs of a young woman, once the love of his son's life, now dead, in many more ways then one.

"What the hell are you talking about?" The smell of something alcoholic, but smelling more like tar in it's cheapness was something that almost made John physically sick. But he refrained, instead glaring into the bloodshot eyes of his father with defiance.

"I want to go to the Regisborough Regional Grammar school. They have dorms there- they said with my scholarship I could stay there for free and they would pay for my books and everything."

It had been three months since John's older brother Michael had left on his eighteenth birthday, to start a new life and forget his old one. His Grandfather tried to convince him not to go – the anger of Michael leaving would only serve to make his father turn on John more often then not, but Michael was adamant, giving his fourteen year old younger brother a weak sounding apology before fleeing the life he had been born into.

John had the burdens of a thousand men, but he bared it well. He watched his father process the request and his grandpa knew what was to come. Allowing John to go would rid his son of his last excuse to hit them – he would be without anything to be subject to his constant anger. With John gone, the last thing keeping Travis, John's grandfather here and with the threats to make him support his son would be gone and with John free, his father would be alone. He would be a bitter old man.

Travis knew he would never let John go. Not a million years. And he proved it. John was watching, slightly apprehensive but keeping most emotion bottled behind a cold emotionless mask he had perfected during his short life when his father raised his hand, and in a split second frame, John was lying on the ground, his cheek red, his eyes closed tightly as his father proved to be a monster.

The next year, James Michael Sheppard, the father of John and Michael Sheppard, former wife to leukemia victim Madison, son to Travis Sheppard from a once noble family line, was dead.

A heart attack. By the end his liver had stopped working from the constant consumption of alcohol and he was blind. But it was shock that killed him.

The shock that John Sheppard, an abused child and teen had joined the Air Force to get away. He was going to be free. James was going to die alone.

* * *

Travis helped John move all of his things. A backpack full was all he had. Travis waited with him for his train. John wanted to know what the old man was going to do. Travis answered he was going to buy a house and do something he hadn't done in years. He was going to live. John smiled that day, the young abused child having grown into a courageous, respectable man. He tried not to take the money Travis insisted he take, but eventually relented. It wasn't much, only a few hundred dollars to help John get set up in his new life. Travis sold his son's house to buy a nice apartment in the city, not like their former home in the outback. Of course, living with his son was never really home. It wasn't even an escape. In more ways then one, Travis was glad his son was dead.

A few years later, Travis was given the news that his major organs had begun to shut down. He was dying from old age, as he knew he would eventually. A few days later he was stricken to his bed, unable to move. The day after that, the boy he hadn't seen since the day at the train station walked through the door, a confident man. He had heard of his grandfathers condition and had returned, with him, a young woman who he insisted to be just a friend.

Travis knew they were in love. He say it the minute they looked at each other. Reflected in both of their eyes as they drew strength from each other.

"I go for a while and look what you get yourself into." John said jokingly, his eyes showing a look Travis had never seen before. Those of someone happy. Those of someone strong, who had seen more things then a human should, but those of a man who though affected deeply, had someone to keep him strong. To keep him going. To keep him alive. It was beautiful.

"You brought a friend." Travis said weakly, a ghost of a smile on his face. John turned slightly red.

"Uh, yeah. T-this is Elizabeth. Elizabeth Weir. She's a negotiator."

Travis looked at her, she turned red just as John had, but Travis only smiled warmly in welcome.

"It's nice to know – know you have someone to make you happy John."

His grandson's neck and ears went red.

"She's not – I mean, - She's.."

Travis grabbed his hand.

"I know."

* * *

"Hey grandpa. You remember Elizabeth right? Remember, you said you liked her. At least, I hope you remember her, you never had that good of a memory. But for the short time she saw you she liked you too. You really made a mark on her old man. Anyway, we got married yesterday. Yeah I know, it's sudden, I mean, I've only know her what, four years? Well, not that sudden. But anyway, you knew. I know you knew. You looked at me and you knew that I loved her. I don't know how, I mean I didn't even know it then. But you did. I hoped you were looking over us. And even now when you know what we've been doing for the last few years. I still remember your last words. You used them telling me how proud of me you are. It means a lot gramps. A lot. Anyway, I'm off. I've got three days on his fair planet and Elizabeth wants to have a picnic by the river. I would have thought she would have seen enough of Atlantis, but I kinda feel like it runs through our blood now. I'll visit you again soon old man. I'll miss you."

John stood up and took a lasting look at his grandfathers tombstone, large and rounded, the picture of a flying dove taking up the top quarter, the rest written with his name and dates.

As well as his legacy. Don't judge a person by their deeds. Judge a person by their strength of character. By their compassion. By their humanity.

It was something John was never going to forget.


End file.
